Haunted
by emquin
Summary: Blaine has been dead for almost 54 years, living a lonely existence as a ghost wishing for revenge. Kurt is a mediator. His job is to help ghosts like Blaine pass on. What happens when they meet? More inside. Klaine.


**Author's Note: **Hello and welcome to yet another fic. This one was really unexpected, I will admit, but it was something I couldn't help but write. If it seems familiar that is because it has already been posted in my tumblr. the prologue is not mine but belongs to the person that inspired this story, kainerific on tumblr.

Anyway, enjoy. And to those reading Dirty Sexy Money, it will be update soon. I'm on the last scene.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything, not even the original concept to this story...although I do admit my plot took it's own life.

**Summary: **Blaine Anderson has been dead for almost 54 years, living a lonely existence as a ghost wishing for revenge. Kurt Hummel is a mediator. His job is to help ghosts like Blaine pass on. What happens when they meet? Especially when it appears that what happened to Blaine 53 years ago could be happening to Kurt.

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><p><em><strong>Prologue<strong>_

_On November 19th, 1957, at 7:43 in the evening, Blaine Anderson took his father's car and headed for William McKinley High School's annual Sadie Hawkins dance. At 8:21, he was driven off the road by a car filled with fellow classmates. At 12:39, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson called the police when Blaine never returned from the dance. On November 20th, 1957, at 9:15 in the morning, the car was found turned over in a ditch along the highway. Blaine Anderson had only been dead for three hours. On November 23rd, 1957, three teenage boys were arrested for the crime. However, due to Blaine Anderson's rumored sexuality, he was fingered as an antinationalist. On November 24th, 1957, the charges were dropped. _

_On October 15, 2011, Blaine Anderson is still wondering the halls of William McKinley, still seeking acceptance and revenge for those who murdered him. If you see a comb, don't pick it up. It's hardly 'magic'; but more so, 'haunted'._

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><p><em><strong>Chapter One<strong>_

"I'll be fine, dad," Kurt Hummel assured his father and leaned over to hug him.

Burt Hummel hugged him back, holding tightly enough that Kurt had to push away from him to get out of the embrace.

"If anything happens I'll call you. I promise," Kurt said, his tone serious with the slight hint of annoyance.

"Okay. Yes. I just…Kurt, be careful."

Kurt nodded one last time and then opened the car door. He took a deep breath, grabbed his messenger bag and put it on his shoulder. "See you at home, dad."

Burt didn't respond, just tipped his head and waved. Kurt gave him a last smile and then he turned and braced himself as he walked up to the front doors of William McKinley High. The moment he stepped inside the double doors he felt it. Inwardly he groaned. He was never going to escape it, no matter how hard he tried or where he went.

Kurt Hummel was not normal. Not in any sense of the word. He was a mediator, able to see, talk to, and perceive ghosts. And boy, were they everywhere. Not only that, but they seemed to able to sense him too, to know what he'd be able to help them. So, they appeared to him, desperate souls in need of something to help them move on. Kurt wasn't always successful in helping them, but he tried his best. His biggest failure had been his mother and she was the reason that he was at McKinley.

He walked down the main hallway until he found the main office. The secretary, a pudgy woman who wore an ugly cable knit blue sweater sat behind a computer, squinting at the screen and looked up when he came in.

"I'm Kurt Hummel," he said without preamble, "new transfer student."

For a moment the woman stared at him bemused and then she shook her head and nodded all at once. "Yes. Yes. Kurt Hummel. I have your schedule and locker assignment here somewhere."

Kurt took a moment to look around while he waited for her to go through the folder on her desk.

This place was nothing like Dalton Academy had been, it was dingy and Kurt could just tell that no one cared about what the place looked like, even the office with its hard chairs and the desk that didn't even look like it was made of proper wood.

"Here you are," she said and handed him a few sheets of paper. "The bell should be ringing in ten minutes or so for home room."

Kurt nodded. "Thank you."

At Dalton the hallways had been picturesque, beautiful with their high ceilings, the framed paintings, crown moldings, and soft arm chairs that one could sink into between classes. McKinley was the complete opposite.

Off white walls were covered in flyers advertising this or that, and lockers lined the halls. Students walked around in small groups, talking loudly, and others stood by their opened lockers, staring blankly inside.

Kurt looked at his schedule as he walked, making sure not to run into anyone, and trying hard to ignore the pricking at his neck that told him a ghost was there, somewhere watching him.

He arrived at his locker a few minutes later and tried the combination written down at the top of his schedule, managing to open the locker on his second try. He didn't jump when he came face to face with a boy his age.

Ghosts didn't look like the ghost everyone saw on tv, blob shapes or even translucent beings. To Kurt they were just like a regular person, solid even to his touch. The only difference was that they were always ice cold and really pale. There was also the fact that they could walk through walls or any surface and it had really bothered Kurt for a long time when they stuck their limbs through things.

But that had been long ago, and when Kurt saw this ghost he wasn't even phased. Instead, Kurt was intrigued. He'd never felt a ghost like this before.

"You can see me," the ghost said, "I can tell you can. I've never met…woah."

Kurt looked around, but there was no one paying him any attention, so he dared to whisper back to him, "I can. Who…what's your name?"

"Blaine. Blaine Anderson."

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><p>For the rest of the day, Kurt felt the presence of Blaine near him even when he couldn't see him. After their introduction earlier they had been interrupted by the bell and Blaine had just disappeared as ghosts tended to do and Kurt had been left to find his way to his homeroom. It was in the choir room for some reason unbeknownst to Kurt and when he arrived all the other students were already there. Mr. Shuster, the teacher, sat on a piano bench and was already calling roll, but he paused when Kurt arrived.<p>

"You must be Kurt," he said and stood, sweeping an arm towards Kurt as some sort of introduction to the eleven other kids in the room, "this is Kurt Hummel everyone, today is his first day. He just transferred from Dalton Academy." As an aside to Kurt, he added, "you can go ahead and sit down."

He'd sat in one of the empty chairs and crossed his legs and no one paid him any mind for a moment until an African American girl introduced herself and then they were all telling them their names.

"I can show you around if you like," she'd added after everyone had gone back to their conversations.

Kurt had agreed only because he didn't want to seem rude, even though all he wanted was to be alone for the rest of the day and try to talk to Blaine because there was a feeling, something coming off of Blaine that told Kurt this ghost was different. He was angry, sure, but there was also bitterness and loneliness and something Kurt couldn't quite identify yet. But, oh, he wanted to.

It was only after the final bell had rung and Kurt was back at his locker with the science book he'd just acquired from his last class, that Blaine appeared to him again.

After making sure that no one was around to listen in on them, he spoke, "can you leave the school?"

Blaine nodded. "Not Lima." His voice was sad.

"Come to my house," Kurt whispered to him and began organizing his locker.

He was so busy trying to make all his books fit and he had never been in a situation where he had to really pay attention to his surroundings for this possibility that he only had Blaine's quiet, pained, "look out" before something ice cold hit him on the right side, covering half his face and dripping down his shirt.

"What the hell?"

A large jock laughed. "Welcome to McKinley, fairy!" And then he was gone off down the hall and Kurt barely made him out through squinted eyes as he high fived another jock.

Kurt tried to rid himself of most of the syrupy cold substance from his face and in particular his eye which was stinging horribly.

He felt Blaine move closer to him and then he had grabbed his hand and was closing his locker and pulling him down the hall. Kurt had never held hands with a ghost before. He didn't say anything. Blaine led him to the bathroom and let go of his hand once they were there. Kurt couldn't help but miss it, as cold as his hand had been, but stepped in front of the large mirror over the three porcelain sinks.

"No one here," Blaine said, "I'll help you clean up."

Kurt wordlessly let Blaine wet a paper towel and bring it to Kurt's face, his hands gentle as he worked out the red liquid from his skin and.

"What was it?" Kurt asked.

"Slushy. The jocks do it to anyone that isn't very popular. The Glee Club mostly. They used to do it when I went to school here too. You'll have to bring an extra shirt just in case now they've singled you out."

Blaine wasn't like any ghost that Kurt had ever met. Although some ghosts had cared about him, none had done so quite like Blaine. For most he was their way to another world, to the heaven they believed awaited them once they had all their affairs in order. But Blaine seemed to actually genuinely care.

"They piss me off so much, Kurt," Blaine said suddenly and Kurt felt a change in his demeanor, "thinking they can get away with things like this. One day…one day I'll show 'em."

There it was.

But the anger was gone as soon as it came as if Blaine was reigning himself in. Kurt began to wonder how old he was to have such control and just what was keeping him there. He wanted to ask, but he stopped himself before he could voice the question.

"My shirt is ruined," he said instead, "I really shouldn't have worn Alexander McQueen."

Blaine didn't say anything, but he followed Kurt back out to hall which now had only a few stragglers and a couple of teachers.

Kurt picked up his things at his locker and smiled to himself when Blaine continued to follow him outside.

Although Kurt had told his dad that there was no need to pick him up that morning during breakfast, he was there waiting in the almost deserted parking lot. Kurt didn't know what he was going to say about his shirt, but he sighed and walked forward. Maybe he wouldn't notice.

Blaine went right through the car to sit in the back as Kurt opened the door to the passenger seat.

"I told you I could walk," Kurt said.

"Not on your first day you can't."

Kurt sighed and chanced a glance back at Blaine while his dad turned the car back on. He had his head tilted to the side in interest as he looked towards Kurt's dad, seeming almost confused. Kurt wanted to know everything about him.

"Alright, alright. But tomorrow, you agreed I can drive and you won't have to miss work."

Burt nodded. "Sure. How was the first day?"

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><p>Blaine followed after Kurt and his father silently and practically unnoticed, as ghosts tended to be even when mediators were present. The living were always, after all, more important that the dead. Blaine had been around long enough to know this and to even come to accept it. He missed part of their conversation as they got into the house and managed only to catch the tail end of it.<p>

"…homework, not a whole lot but I should get a head start on that," Kurt said to his father and stepped farther into the house towards the kitchen, "I'll be up to make dinner later."

"We can order in," Kurt's dad offered.

Kurt shook his head at once, eyes wide. "I don't think so," Kurt said and it was as if that was the final word on the matter.

After a few grumbles from Burt, Kurt headed to a door off of the kitchen and down to what Blaine assumed had to be the cellar. He allowed himself to fall right through the floor and he was surprised when instead of the usual basements, it was nicely decorated and redone so that instead it actually did look like it could serve as a bedroom.

If Kurt had just recently moved in, then he had unpacked everything already and gotten rid of the boxes, because absolutely everything looked like it was in its place. Blaine suspected that Kurt hadn't, however, because the room just felt like Kurt.

"You can sit down…or whatever," Kurt said.

He was standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, hands wringing together as if he didn't really know what to do with Blaine. Kurt was just slightly taller than Blaine, and perhaps the most beautiful boy that Blaine had laid his eyes on. His brown soft looking hair was coiffed and pushed away from his forehead, and his eyes had gone from one color to another throughout the day. Blaine didn't know what color to call them. Then, there was his porcelain skin, so soft to the touch as Blaine had found out earlier.

"How…how old are you?" Kurt asked.

Ghosts measured their ages in two ways. Some from their deaths, and others from the day they'd been born. Blaine didn't know what number Kurt expected from him.

"I was seventeen when I died. I've been dead fifty three years. Fifty four in a few months."

Kurt nodded slowly. "Okay. Do you know why you're still here?"

Blaine hadn't actually expected Kurt to ask that question right off the back. The last mediator he met around twenty years after his death hadn't brought it up for weeks and then only because he hadn't been able to find out himself. Blaine remembered fondly that he hadn't actually been very receptive of Meredith's help.

"Yes."

Kurt moved from his spot and Blaine followed him with his eyes, watching him get comfortable. "Are you going to tell me why?"

Blaine didn't want to. He remembered the second mediator that he'd encountered and the utter lack of help that he'd been after Blaine shared his story.

"You don't have to, I guess," Kurt said, "anyway you don't seem that troubled to be stuck in this world. I've never met another ghost like you. Peaceful. It doesn't seem like you really need my help."

Blaine felt suddenly a pang in his chest. How was this boy real? There had never been anyone before that actually understood that Blaine didn't want to just move on to whatever phase was next. Of course, Kurt wouldn't know that the reason for this was that for one, he wanted to stop what had happened to him from happening to anyone else and that for another, he didn't want to move on. He wanted to go back. Meeting Kurt made him wish for that more than ever.

"Well," Kurt said as he sat down on the edge of his bed, "at least you'll have someone to talk to now I'm here if you really don't need my help."

Blaine grinned. "You're not too bothered I'm a ghost. Some mediators kind of try to stay away from us if they can help it."

"Most mediators," Kurt said not looking at Blaine, "don't know about their power until they're thirteen at the earliest. Puberty's sort of a trigger, I guess. I've known since I was eight. I got used to it pretty quickly because my only source of comfort was a ghost and to me and what you should be to all of us mediators is not different from the living. I can touch you, hear you, see you. You are as human to me as everyone else."

Blaine hadn't cried in years, but his eyes prickled with tears, then. He didn't dare to reach up to rub his eyes in fear of giving himself away to Kurt. He'd forgotten how mediators could sort of sense their feelings, until Kurt wrapped a tentative arm around his shoulders.

"What's wrong?"

"I've met other mediators, Kurt, but none have ever seen me or understood me the way you do."

"Oh."

From behind them there was some sort of noise, and Blaine jumped away from Kurt when he realized it was another ghost that had entered the room. More shocking was seeing Kurt's face light up at seeing her.

"Mom!" Kurt cried and crossed the room to hug her. Blaine watched them surprised. He couldn't believe it. Kurt's mom was a ghost.

That's why he was so comfortable with Blaine. He wondered for a moment why she was still around, but seeing Kurt hugging her, so happy to see her made him realize almost at once why she hadn't moved on. Kurt. She stayed for Kurt.

"Who's your friend, Kurtie?"

"Mom," Kurt said in a low tone that Blaine just managed to hear, before he added, "this is Blaine. I met him in my new school today."

"Well, hello, Blaine, I hope Kurt has been very helpful. I'm his mom, but you can call me Elizabeth."

He nodded even though Kurt hadn't really done more than just keep him company, which was really all that Blaine had ever really wanted after all his years without any sort of conversation.

"What are you doing here mom?" Kurt asked, then, "I thought you weren't coming for another two weeks."

She smiled fondly at him and reached up to brush a hair that had fallen from his face, away, "I wanted to make sure you'd be okay. There have always been dangerous ghosts around here. I was concerned."

"I haven't felt anyone but Blaine."

Elizabeth eyed Blaine carefully. She was younger than Blaine which meant that she was less powerful, but, and he imagined this had something to do with Kurt, she was very controlled. No one emotion ruled her being like tended to be the case, but he could tell there was something there that she needed to hold back.

How one died, the thoughts and feelings about their death were amplified if they didn't go over into the next world and ended up as ghosts. For Blaine it had been anger, a need for revenge against the boys that had led him to his death. But after discovering that he couldn't actually leave Lima and that he really couldn't do anything against the three boys but scare them, his frustration and anger just grew. It was only years after they'd left high school that he began to mellow down but still being stuck at that school and seeing the treatment that other students went through was sometimes enough to set Blaine off.

His anger and his need for revenge was a part of him just like there had to be something in Elizabeth Hummel that was such a part of her nothing else mattered. He just couldn't figure her out.

"I can't stay too long," Elizabeth said, "but I wanted to stop by. Be careful okay, Kurtie. I love you."

Kurt nodded and hugged her again. "Love you too, mom."

Blaine had missed a part of their conversation while he was lost in his thoughts but he decided that it would have been intruding on them anyway and he really didn't need to know.

"She worries about me," Kurt said, "I guess that's what mom's are supposed to do, but I think sometimes I worry about her more. She doesn't want to go on, she can't. It because of me, she doesn't say it, but I know it is."

"I kind of figured," Blaine said, "but it must have made it better when she died to have her back even like this."

"Freaked me out more like," Kurt said with a laugh, "once I figured it out, you know. You don't expect your mom to die one day and to try and go to sleep that night and wake up to her just standing over you looking the same as ever. I think I told my dad the next morning, but he couldn't see her even when she was right there next to me. He thought I was going crazy with grief, but I had her back."

Kurt sat down again, looking down at his knees for a long time before he spoke again, "she sort of knew she was a ghost so she told me and she said she couldn't leave me. I tried to get her to go after a year. It isn't healthy for me and I just wanted her to be happy and move on to the next phase. But obviously she stuck around. But it brought my natural talent out much faster than anyone else and with how I wanted her around so much that year, I just became used to ghosts."

Kurt scooted towards the head of the bed, to lean his back against his pillows. After a moment he patted the bed.

"I…"

"Oh come on, " Kurt said, "get over here, I don't think you've had any sort of contact with anyone that could see you in years and I want to get to know you."

Blaine walked slowly to the bed and sat down carefully, making sure he wasn't going to fall down to the floor. It was hard getting the hang of being able to pick things up and stay on something rather than go through it. It had taken Blaine nearly a week to really get it down.

"What do you want to know?" Blaine asked.

"Anything. Everything."

Blaine knew what he wanted to tell Kurt. But even though he thought he knew that Kurt was gay, he couldn't be a hundred percent sure.

"Well, if you hadn't guessed already, I'm gay."

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Okay, so I hope you guys liked this. I am actually posting this on my tumblr in parts. Each chapter consists of four parts about, so it will probably be updated there quickly for those of you who can't wait for a whole chapter on here. You can find me under the name: emquin. There should be a link in my profile as well.

I had a lot of fun writing this and can't wait to write more. So, let me know what you thought.

Please review.

-Erika


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